


Lost and Found

by halfsweet



Series: Bingo Challenge [2]
Category: Bandom, Fall Out Boy, Panic! at the Disco
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bakery, Cinderella Elements, M/M, Matchmaking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-05
Updated: 2019-05-05
Packaged: 2020-02-26 10:04:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,689
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18714817
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/halfsweet/pseuds/halfsweet
Summary: In which Patrick is a bakery owner who is invited to the one and only rockstar Brendon Urie's small party.





	Lost and Found

**Author's Note:**

> here's a fluff! hope this makes up for what happened in the previous fic :)

_ “Brendon Urie! I love you!” _

Patrick winces at the high-pitched shrieks of the fans from outside the bakery. He can hear the obnoxious screaming all the way to the kitchen in the back it's ridiculous.

Living and opening up a bakery in the middle of LA sure has its perks, he can't deny that. Even though the rent and living cost are sucking his bank account dry, but at least the free publicity from the celebrities caught on paparazzi pictures are worth it.

Every single day, every hour of the day, flocks upon flocks of fans of the celebrities wait and queue outside all day just to have a taste of what their beloved idols are eating.

Although it can be pretty busy in some days, at least it brings him some cash in.

He knows he should be thankful for the fans outside for buying something from his bakery, but he just  _ can't _ with the fans of a  _ particular _ celebrity.

He doesn't work at the front, doesn't work at the cashier because he much prefers to be in the background and he loves baking— which is the sole reason why he opened his bakery.

But whenever  _ this _ celebrity comes in to buy his pastry, his fans are just  _ excruciating _ . His eardrums are still ruptured from the last time the celebrity came in.

And even though he has never met the celebrity before, he already knows his name and  _ loathes _ him, and he hopes he  _ never _ has to be in the same vicinity as him ever again. 

Brendon Urie's fans are disrupting his customers and his customers come first. 

...even if one of the customers is Brendon Urie himself.

Sighing, he sets the rolling pin aside and takes a sip of water as the screaming outside dwindles down. That's better. Now he can focus on baking apple pies.

-

_ to everyone, can you please not follow me everywhere I go? I would love to have some privacy to myself after a long tour. We can still meet again in the next leg of the tour but for now, please respect my privacy. — BU _

-

He opens the bakery at 6.00 a.m. every morning so he can get started with baking cakes and pastries. Josh and Tyler would come an hour later to help set up the shop—mopping the floor and wiping the tables, mainly— and by then, he’d have already finished baking his first batch of pastries. And although cakes are fun to do, he prefers to bake pies even more. After all, the less decoration and frosting, the better.

He walks over to where his notebook—where he records all the orders the shop receives on a daily basis—lays on the counter next to a telephone perched on the wall. The orders that he often receives mostly consist of cakes, but as he opens the notebook, he can’t say that he’s surprised when he sees he has four pies to bake from  _ Brendon Urie _ . Apple pies, to be specific.

He might spend the rest of his day in the kitchen instead of working the front like Josh and Tyler do, but from what he’s heard from his two employees, it’s that Brendon Urie always buys  _ apple _ pie even though there are other pies, even pastries and cakes, but each time the artist comes to his little bakery, it’s always the apple pie that he picks.

And now that he has an order of four apple pies from Brendon Urie himself, he wonders if there’s something behind his love for apple pies.

-

Apparently, Brendon Urie is throwing a small party to celebrate the completion of his tour, and he’s invited his closest and personal friends. Patrick isn’t surprised by that fact; in fact, if he were Brendon himself, he’d want to spend his time with his friends as much as he can before he’s whisked off for another project.

But what surprises Patrick is that Brendon is throwing a party with a  _ theme _ , so everyone must wear a mask— and he himself is not excluded from the rule. Josh and Tyler are ecstatic when Brendon personally invited the bakery to his small party, but Patrick isn’t.

He just wants to close up the bakery and go back to his place and sleep the night away before he has to wake up early again tomorrow, but two of his  _ only _ (full-time) employees would never let him off that easy.

Sometimes he wonders if it’s too late to find new employees.

He shakes the matter off and focuses on the task at hand. Deliver the pies to Brendon, hang back at the party, maybe play with Brendon’s dog if he has one, and just lay low until the party’s over.  _ Then,  _ he can go back home.

He can almost hear his bed and pillow calling for him through the night breeze.

Sighing, he gets out of his car with Josh and Tyler and walks to the front gate of Brendon’s house, each carrying a box of pie— him carrying two boxes. Josh and Tyler are quite literally skipping to the backyard where the party is while he lags behind, taking his time. 

When he reaches the backyard, he looks around the area for the refreshment table, where Josh and Tyler have already left the boxes open on table and are now mingling with the other masked guests. Patrick walks over to the table, making sure to not trip on anything.

“Are you the bakery owner?”

Patrick whips around, jaw dropped when he finds himself face-to-face with the one and only Brendon Urie. Startled, he almost drops the pie he’s holding, but Brendon manages to hold his hands steady. Blood rushes up to Patrick’s face. That was  _ embarrassing. _ “No. No, I, uh, I'm a regular there.”

Wait, what the hell did he just say?

Brendon raises an eyebrow as he helps to take the boxes from him. “A customer?”

Oh, fuck. Why did he have to be so socially awkward? He wipes his sweaty palms against his pants and clears his throat. “I, uh— I’m friends with the owner. He's the chef there, too.”

Brendon looks at him smiling after he sets the boxes down on the table. “Well, if you see him, send him my compliments.”

Still tongue tied, he nods wordlessly as Brendon takes a slice of the pie and disappears into the crowd. Patrick sighs and rubs his face. Great. Way to make a first impression. He glances at the end of the table, finding a cooler, and grabs a bottle of beer so he can forget what just happened in the last five minutes.

Honestly, it’s not even 5 minutes into the party and he’s already made a fool out of himself. In front of Brendon, at that. Tonight is just not his night.

Throughout the entire party, he sits by the refreshment table, playing with Brendon’s dog. He couldn’t have been any more relieved and delighted when he spotted the four-legged creature earlier. At least now he doesn’t feel so lonely.

Hearing footsteps near the table, he looks up from scratching the dog— _ Bogart _ —and notices Brendon, who is placing another two slices of pie in his plate. He fixes his mask and fedora and clears his throat to get Brendon’s attention. “So, uh, you love the pies?”

“Tastes just the same as how my mother always bakes it.” Brendon turns to him, grinning, then his expression softens. “Brings me back to my childhood. The good and easy times.”

“I know, right? We don't have to worry about anything. Rents, bills… thinking about them just gives me a headache.” Patrick scrunches his face in displeasure before shaking his head. “My mom’s always checking in on me to make sure I eat enough.”

Brendon lets out a soft laugh. “Same. I’m already in my thirties and my mom’s still worrying about me like I’m five.”

“Moms.” They both look at each other and laugh. When the laughter dies down, Patrick looks down at Bogart, unsure how to continue the conversation. 

“You know, I feel really at ease talking to you.”

“Oh?” Patrick blinks, reeling back from the compliment.  “Thank you, I guess?”

“I'm sorry if this is too brash, but do you want to get out of here and grab something to eat? We won't be doing anything, I promise. We’ll just talk, and then I can send you home.”

Patrick looks over his shoulder at Josh and Tyler, who are talking with some of the guests in their masks. Would they be okay if he leaves them in the mean time? After all, they  _ did _ tell him to try to get to know someone during the party, so…

“But isn’t this your party?”

Brendon shrugs and waves his hand dismissively. “Don’t worry about it. They won’t miss us if we’re gone for a while.”

He turns to Brendon, quirking a small smile. “If that’s the case, I guess I can spare a minute for you.”

“Oh?” Brendon lifts an eyebrow in amusement. “You  _ guess _ you can spare a minute for me? Then we’d better get going.”

-

They end up at a nearby park with several food trucks lined up by the pavement and a small crowd sitting at the picnic tables. Soft conversations fill the air, accompanied by the sound of leaves rustling, and Brendon leads them to one of the food trucks.

“Hope you don’t mind nachos.” Brendon turns to him with a small grin, making his heart speed up.

Patrick looks down at the ground, abashed, as red paints his face. Honestly, what is wrong with him? He does  _ not _ get all blushy, especially not around celebrities or cute guys like Brendon. He lifts his fedora up and runs his fingers through his hair before placing the fedora back down. “It’s fine. I’m not picky.”

Once they get the snack—with Brendon paying for it—they walk around the park, finding the nearest bench to sit on. It’s a little further away from everyone at the picnic tables, but Patrick’s thankful for the quiet and privacy.

He doesn’t think he could handle the humiliation if he accidentally embarrassed himself in front of Brendon with everyone around witnessing everything.

But, spending one-on-one time with Brendon is something so… so different. Brendon isn’t at all like the guy he thought he is. Brendon isn’t obnoxious, for one. He’s surprisingly  _ normal. _ Patrick never would have thought that Brendon is capable of being normal. Being  _ non-celebrity _ -like. 

Seeing Brendon this up close and personal, it really opens up a whole new perspective for him.

He’s so enthralled watching and hearing Brendon telling a story from one of his tours that he almost misses the vibration in his pocket. He apologizes to Brendon before taking his phone out, and his eyes go wide at the notification he received.

_ Intruder alert.  _

“Oh crap, I should go.” Patrick gets up in haste, dusting himself off as he does so. He’s already pulling up Uber to get a quick ride back to his place. It might be a false alarm, but what if there is a burglar? He can’t take any chance. “This has been a nice night. Thank you for the nachos.”

“Wait, let me—” 

He dashes off before Brendon can finish his sentence, and the sudden forward momentum causes him to stumble on his feet, his fedora dropping as a result of it. All thoughts of picking up his fedora fly out of the window as his mind is focused on getting back home to make sure there are no intruders.

Though he does feel somewhat heavy when he leaves the park. 

-

_ To you-know-who, I've had such a great time the other night. I want to see you again. but you left without a name or a number. Although I have something of yours. _

_ If you are the person, tell me the item that you left behind and the place that you are a regular of. _

_ I can't wait to see you again. — BU _

-

“Where were you? You left us at Brendon’s party last night. We waited for you for two hours.” Tyler furrows his brows, frowning at Patrick the second Patrick steps into the shop.

“I know, I know. I'm sorry. I just—” Patrick scratches the back of his neck. Can he tell them that he went out with Brendon Urie last night? No, better keep it a secret. “—had an emergency. I should've told you guys earlier. Sorry.”

“And you’ve never come late, either.” Josh eyes him, voice tinged with worry. “Did something happen? Are you sick?”

“I’m fine. Don’t worry about me.” Patrick smiles and pats Josh on the shoulder. He’s so lucky to have two caring employees. So lucky, in fact, that he’d never tell them that the reason he’s late is becase he spent about an hour thrashing the whole place in search of his fedora. But at least there was no burglary last night. “I'll be in the kitchen if you need me.”

He makes his way to the kitchen, and he’s opening the door when he hears a snippet of Josh and Tyler’s conversation.

_ “Did you read Brendon’s tweet last night?” _

_ “I did. I wonder if he’s going to date the person when he found them.” _

Shaking his head, he puts on his apron and gets to work. He doesn’t mind if they’re gossiping as long as they do their work.

-

He loves being in the kitchen. It’s peaceful and tranquil, especially when the smell of freshly baked pastries waft through the room every second. Sometimes, he does get pretty bored being in the kitchen all by himself, so he resorts to helping Tyler and Josh managing the customers.

Although, the second his foot is out of the kitchen, it’s like his entire body is frozen when he sees Brendon at the counter, rattling off his order to Tyler.

“Hey, boss.” Josh salutes him after he’s handed a customer a drink. “Finally gonna come outside and play with us?”

Josh’s voice breaks him out of reverie and he grabs Josh towards him, whispering, “Oh shit, what's  _ he _ doing here?”

“Because he's our regular?” Josh looks at him weirdly, then turns his attention to Brendon and Tyler, forehead creasing when they look deep in conversation. “Wait, what's he asking Tyler?”

Patrick's eyes go wide when he sees the item on top of Brendon's head.  _ No way. _

Josh gapes in surprise and points to Brendon not-so-discreetly. “Wait, isn't that  _ your  _ fedora?”

Patrick grips Josh's arm tight and pulls him into the kitchen, panicking. “Listen, you need to tell Tyler to tell Brendon that you'll return the fedora for him, but you can't tell him it's me.”

“Why?”

“Just— just do it. It's an order from your boss.” Patrick pushes him out of the kitchen. He’s going to get his fedora back one way or the other without exposing himself. “ _ Now _ , Dun.”

Josh puts his hands up in the air. “Okay, okay. I'll tell him.”

When Josh leaves, Patrick peeks from behind the door, trying to read their lips— to no avail. They do seem engrossed in their conversation, especially Josh and Tyler. 

He bites his lips. All this waiting and jitters are making him want to bite his nails again. What are they talking about? He wants to hear what they’re saying word-for-word, but he also doesn’t want to go out there.

Brendon hands a few bills to Tyler, then grabs his orders with both his hands before leaving.

_ With _ the fedora.

He waits until Brendon's out of the area to come out from the kitchen and makes his way to Josh and Tyler. “Why did he walk out with my fedora still? I gave you a clear instruction, didn't I?”

Josh and Tyler give each other a grin before turning to Patrick, who gulps at the mischievous glint in their eyes. “You two had better not be planning anything involving me.”

“So, Brendon’s tweet the other day is about you, isn’t it?” Tyler asks, his expression full of smug.

Patrick furrows his brows, scowling. “What tweet?”

Josh grins, ignoring Patrick’s question. “Patrick, don't you  _ know _ what this means?”

“No…?”

“You're his  _ Cinderella! _ ” Both Josh and Tyler exclaim at the same time, attracting some of the patrons’ attention. 

“Now you’re being ridiculous.” Patrick sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. “I should've fired you two when I had the chance.”

“You  _ have _ to tell Brendon it's you. What if—” Tyler insists, his voice entering one ear and out the other as Patrick turns to go back to the kitchen. Why is it  _ so _ hard to get his fedora back? It’s not like he’s asking for a million dollars.

He leans over the counter and takes a deep breath. It’s okay. It’s fine. He can think about his fedora later. Right now, he’s just going to distract himself with more baking.

-

_ one step closer _

-

“Don't you two have something better to do? Like an actual job?”

Josh and Tyler look up from their phones and shoot him a guilty smile.

“Sorry, boss.” Josh scratches his head as he places his phone down on the counter. “But you're never gonna guess what happened.”

“I've told you time and time again, Josh. I have no interest in current pop culture. I can barely keep up with the culture in 2012, much less 2019.”

“No, it's not something pop, I promise.” The grin on Tyler's face is far too wide to be innocent. Then again, there's nothing innocent about his two employees. “It’s… alternative rock with a fairytale crossover.”

Patrick groans and rubs his temples. “Are we still doing this?”

“Of course we are.” Tyler gives him an obvious look. “You're our 35-year old single boss who also happens to be the apple of  _ the _ Brendon Urie's eye.”

“Because he doesn't know it's  _ me. _ ” Patrick rolls his eyes, exasperated. Why can't the two kids leave it alone? “He doesn't know that I'm not a celebrity and that I'm just a pastry chef.”

“He's not that shallow, Patrick.” Josh tells him as he wipes the counter with a rag. “You gotta give him a little credit.”

“How do you know he’s not shallow?”

“How do  _ you _ know he’s not not shallow?”

Patrick shakes his head. This is going nowhere. “Look, whatever.  This is real life, not some fairytale. Get to work, and if he comes in again, ask him for my fedora back.”

Without another word, he leaves to the kitchen to continue baking. So much for a break.

-

“Hey, boss?” Josh peeks his head into the kitchen, almost startling Patrick. He grins apologetically. “Sorry, but can you take over the front for a while? Tyler's out for a delivery and I  _ really _ need to go to the bathroom.”

Patrick wipes the sweat on his forehead with the sleeves of his shirt, smiling as he undoes his apron. “Sure. You go ahead. I'll be out in a sec.”

Josh beams before disappearing. Patrick walks over to the sink and washes his hands, then looks at his reflection in the mirror to make sure there's no flour or batter smeared on his face.

When he's done, he puts on his best customer service smile and walks out of the kitchen and towards behind the cashier, where a customer is already waiting with his back turned to him.

He clears his throat, making the customer jump in shock, and his heart speeds up when he realizes who the customer is.

“Yes, hi. Can I have a cappuccino?” Brendon asks, then taps his finger against the display glass. “And a slice of apple pie. Actually, make that two.”

Patrick's eyes trail from Brendon's finger to his forearm and to his bicep hidden under his leather jacket, then to his shoulder, his neck, his jaw… all the way up to the top of his head and his jaw drops.  _ His fedora! _

How  _ dare _ he.

He straightens his back and smiles through his gritted teeth. “Is that your fedora, sir?”

Brendon looks up from the apple pie to meet his eyes in question. “What? Oh, no. It belongs to… someone I know.”

He snorts. _ Someone he knows. _ Yeah fucking right. 

“Is something wrong?” Brendon’s smile drops as he raises an eyebrow.

_ Is something wrong? _ Patrick’s heart feels as if it’s on fire from the question. Of  _ course _ there’s something wrong! “Yeah. You shouldn't take what doesn’t belong to you.”

Brendon looks taken aback, but he composes himself. “And how do you know it doesn’t belong to me?”

Patrick scowls up at him. “Because that fedora is m—”

He stop mid-sentence and shakes his head. That was close. “You’re on a hunt for the fedora owner, aren’t you?”

Brendon folds his elbow on the counter as he leans forward. “So you’ve heard.”

“Kinda hard not to.” Patrick continues making his drink. “You practically made a post online for the whole world to see that you’re looking for your Cinderella.”

“My Cinderella, huh?” The corner of Brendon’s lip quirk up in an amused smile, and Patrick wishes Josh or Tyler would be back faster so he doesn’t have to deal with him. “Is that what you call it?”

Patrick shrugs. “It’s what everyone calls it.”

“What do you think? Am I going to find them?”

Patrick places Brendon's drink on the counter and grabs a small paper container to place the pie in. “He probably doesn't want to be found, so you should forget about this whole search thing.”

Brendon's eyes twinkle. “Huh. Is that so?”

“Yes, it is so.” Patrick rings up Brendon's order and tells him the price, then smiles up sweetly at him. “I have an idea. Why don’t you leave the fedora here? When your  _ Cinderella  _ sees it and claims it, I’ll tell him to leave his number for you.”

Brendon holds the fedora brim between his fingers, looking deep in thought, and Patrick bites his lip in anticipation— he’s not even thinking about the money, his mind is on nothing but  _ his _ fedora.

Finally, Brendon breaks out into a smile and pulls his wallet out, sliding a 20-dollar bill across the counter and taking his drink and pies in his hands. “No thanks. I’ll just hold on to this. Keep the change.”

Patrick’s face sours when Brendon winks at him before leaving, and he grumpily puts the bill in the register. 

It doesn’t matter how cute or how down-to-earth or how  _ normal _ Brendon Urie is, he’s still the most infuriating man he’s ever met. 

He just wants his fedora back, damn it.

-

_ checkmate, Cinderella _

-

“Patrick, I need your help.”

Patrick looks up from the dough he’s making to the source of the voice. “Tyler. What is it?”

“Well…” Tyler scratches the back of his head. “There’s a little… mishap?”

His body tenses at the word ‘mishap’. Did Josh or Tyler get into some kind of accident? Did any of the customers get hurt?

Mind racing at all the possible bad scenarios happening outside the kitchen, he washes his hands and dries them with a clean towel. “What happened?”

“They want to see the manager. You, I guess.” Tyler shifts on his feet before stepping aside so Patrick can walk through. “I’m sorry, boss.”

Patrick pats Tyler’s shoulder in reassurance as he steps out. “It’s going to be fine. You just go back to your work.”

Tyler leads him to a table, where a man’s back is facing him. Patrick nods to Tyler. “I can handle this from here.”

When Tyler leaves to the counter, Patrick takes a deep breath and straightens his back, plastering on a friendly smile as he clears his throat. “Excuse me, sir? I’m the owner of this bakery. Is there something not to your liking?”

“Yes, actually.”

Patrick stiffens at the familiar voice.  _ It can’t be. _

Brendon tilts his head, a small smile crossing his face as he stands up and pulls a chair out for him. “Please. Have a seat.”

Stunned, he takes his seat just as Brendon returns to his own across him. Brendon steeples his fingers together, still smiling, and Patrick fidgets under his gaze. “You wanted to meet me, Mr Urie?”

“As a matter of fact, I do.” Brendon nods, taking off his fedora. His fedora! He can’t believe he didn’t notice it earlier!

Brendon sets the fedora on top of Patrick’s head like a crown before leaning back in his chair, face calming with satisfaction. “I’ve been searching for you, Cinderella.”

Patrick’s jaw drops at the knowing look in Brendon’s eyes.  _ How did Brendon know? _

He glaces past Brendon’s shoulder to Josh and Tyler, who are watching them and giving him a thumbs-up. His eyes settle back on Brendon as heat creeps up his face. When he finally finds his voice, he asks, “How did you know it's me?”

“Remember when you took my order?”

Patrick nods dumbly. How could he forget? Josh and Tyler set him up for it. “What about it?”

“You said I was on a hunt for the  _ fedora  _ owner _. _ ” Brendon rests his chin on his knuckles. 

“Yeah, so?” Patrick’s forehead wrinkles in confusion, especially with the glint in Brendon's eyes. That's a common fact. Everyone knows Brendon’s looking for the owner. What is Brendon trying to tell him?

“I never once mentioned what item was left behind by  _ Cinderella _ .” The smile on Brendon’s face widens. “And also because you said  _ he. _ ”

His heart drops to his stomach. “What?”

Brendon shrugs, still smiling. “Everyone naturally assumes I'm looking for a girl, but you're the only one who said  _ he _ when I said  _ them. _ ”

Patrick's mouth hangs open. Wait a second. So does that mean he  _ accidentally _ revealed himself to Brendon?

“Yeah.” Brendon grins, then leans forward to flick the fedora— Patrick recoiling in surpise. “And you said that I shouldn't take the fedora. When I said it belongs to someone, everyone thinks that it's my father's or a friend's. But you insisted for me to leave it here because it's yours, isn't it?”

His tongue feels heavy. What's he supposed to say?

“You were with me that night, weren’t you?

Flustered, he lifts off his fedora and runs his hand through his hair— an automatic gesture for whenever he’s nervous, and it doesn’t go unnoticed by Brendon, whose smile gets wider and brighter. “It  _ is _ you. I finally found my Cinderella.”

“And now you’re going to move on with your life, right?” Patrick’s shoulders drop as he casts his eyes downwards, avoiding Brendon’s gaze. Is it bad to wish that the ground would open up and swallow him right that instant? “Because I’m just a regular boring person and not famous like you.”

He almost wants to run back to his kitchen—his safe sanctuary—when Brendon doesn’t say anything. The silence stretches on for far too long that he’s pretty sure the people around them are giving him pity looks.  _ ‘Oh, look at him. Poor guy, he’s going to get rejected in his own shop. Let’s record and post it on the internet.’ _

“Is that why you didn’t come to me? Because you think I’m going to bail once I find out it’s you?” Patrick shrinks in his seat at the sound of Brendon’s voice. “Look, I know we don’t know much about each other, but surely you don’t think I’m that kind of guy, right? Especially after I poured my heart out to you that night.” 

Patrick’s head snaps back up so fast that he feels dizzy for a second, and he carefully scrutinizes the man before him, searching Brendon’s face and eyes to see if it’s all just an act.

And all he sees is the same Brendon Urie he met that night.

Patrick bites his lip to stifle his smile. “You can’t be serious.”

“I am.” Brendon nods with a determined smile, then extends his hand out. “Let’s start over. Hi, I’m Brendon. I sing and I love apple pies that remind me of my mom.”

Patrick shakes his hand with a grin. “I’m Patrick. I bake and I own this bakery.”

-

_ And so the Prince and his Cinderella are reunited once again. _

**Author's Note:**

> i know i missed a couple elements like stepsiblings but uhh this is close. hope you enjoyed it!


End file.
